"I'm Naomi," she murmured, offering her hand in a slow, deliberate motion. There was nothing professional about the gesture—it was a brazen invitation to touch.
Alex looked down at her fingers, the easy, amused smile never leaving his face. He didn't hesitate. Reaching out, he enveloped her hand in his grasp.
Her skin was deceptively soft, cool, and silky smooth against his palm. There wasn't a single telltale callous or rough edge to betray her true line of work... a testament to how meticulously she maintained her civilian disguise, or perhaps how completely her Late Enhanced vitality had refined her body.
"Looks like I'll need another drink tonight," Alex said, his thumb lightly brushing the back of her knuckles before letting go.
A flash of proud, triumphant satisfaction lit up Naomi's dark eyes.
